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Apr 2014
Looking dead and empty from the outside
Every window dark and overgrown
A picture perfect not-so-sweet abandon
Standing long forgotten and alone
Beckoning to me with secret nothings
And stories each of us may never tell
A place that life and time have long forgotten
A place of death not far from living hell

Twisted vines tattoo the sides like cancer
Cataracts of dust enslave the glass
A jagged smile of railing slats now beckons
Waiting for the worst to come to pass
The steps, askew and incomplete, sustain me
As do the missing pieces of my mind
With every step, a creak that echoes louder
Than the silence that will fill the end of time

The door, now long ajar and slightly canted
Much like my eyes, half open to the truth
Sees through me, as I gaze into forever
Caressing every shadow of my youth
The surface, cracked and scarred like distant memories
Much like the hide of demons yet to be
Becomes as braille beneath my trailing fingers
And whispers, “Come…,” as fate opens to me

The corner shaves an arc on dusty floorboards
Motes now rise and sway, as if entranced
Every footfall landing past the threshold
Conjures more to join this ghostly dance
Etching upon stillness a reminder
That even the forgotten tend to change
Emphasizing time as an illusion
Every passing moment soon estranged

Traversing through each room, the memories linger
Linger but a moment do I dare
For in each dusty corner lies a shadow
Lying not, while hungry and aware
Every hallway stretches on eternal
No trace of salvation upon the stairs
Nothing here but promises now hollow
Forcing me out into fresher air

Wading through the overgrowth and briers
Working my way ‘round this haggard shell
The cellar door awakens now from nowhere
Hinting both to heaven and to hell
Standing here in waiting, not in wonder
Not knowing how I know what soon will be
The cellar door extends its invitation
As it opens ever slowly unto me

Stepping into darkness disillusioned
Emptiness extends its open arms
Embracing me despite the separation
Beckoning me further in its charm
Crying, not in fear, but in elation
I stagger through my tears to my demise
The death of everything I had forsaken
Forgotten like the past I had disguised

In the furthest corner of my conscience
Crouching in the corner of the tomb
The child of devastation smiles sweetly
Driving every darkness from the gloom
Fighting not the chains that hold him captive
No longer forgotten and alone
For I have come to free him from the memories
And together, we will find our way back home
This has been a creative work in progress for a while now, and may still yet find change.
Diary of the Damned
Written by
Diary of the Damned  Stanford, Kentucky
(Stanford, Kentucky)   
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